The Last Cheerleader. Meg O'Brien

personal energy into. It might not be so bad, working with an author again to pull a book into shape…page by inept page.

      Oh, God. Save me.

      I sighed and drank the fast-cooling coffee, turning my thoughts to Lindy and the night before. Had the intruder been Roger? The main reason I’d taken Lindy in was because I knew something about Roger that she didn’t, and I’d felt sorry for her. But now what did I do with her?

      Lindy answered that question herself, standing at the door with a coffee cup in her hand. “I’ll be leaving soon,” she said. “I just wanted to talk to you first.”

      “Come, sit down,” I said, patting the seat of the chair next to me. “Here, it’s wet. Let me put some of this newspaper on it.”

      I spread out a few dry pages, and Lindy plunked down on the chair with a tired sigh. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. “I feel so helpless. I don’t know why I came here, Mary Beth. I just didn’t know where else to go, and I felt like I was losing it. For good, I mean. I guess I’ve really been losing it for years.”

      “Do you want to tell me why Roger threw you out?” I asked.

      She looked at me briefly, then glanced away. “It’s not a pretty story.”

      “Something you did that angered him?” I asked. “Another man?”

      “Oh, God, no. I’ve got enough to handle at home without another man in my life.”

      She appeared to be thinking over whether to tell me about it. Finally she said, “I found out something about Roger. Something really bad.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Some marriage, huh? The homecoming queen and king, the perfect match. Most likely to succeed.”

      I didn’t respond, but wondered how much I should say. I thought I knew what Lindy had found out about Roger. Not the details, of course, but in general. If I turned out to be wrong, though, I’d only be opening a hornet’s nest.

      Roger Van Court was someone I had loved from afar in high school. He was the rich kid in class—not that I was impressed by that, or the fact that he was captain of the football team. If anything, I saw those aspects of Roger as a cliché. His good looks were something else, though. He had the cutest dimple in his left cheek, and when he smiled it seemed like the sun came out. Who wouldn’t want him, at the age of sixteen when flaws are never seen or even believed in?

      I was horribly shy, however, and I always had my nose in a book. As for Roger, even before Lindy there was usually some gorgeous girl with him. When Lindy started going steady with him, I felt envious, of course. But I also lived vicariously through her. She would tell me all about their dates, and how wonderful he was, and how well he treated her. I could only hope that someday I’d have someone like that.